Chapter 36: Ancestral Tombs Ablaze with Fortune? (Please Keep Reading!)

Shang Lu hefted the corpses of Xu Biao and Huang Bao onto his shoulders and strode quickly to the foot of the right-hand wall of the side courtyard. Employing the Ape’s Movement Technique, he moved with the nimbleness of a monkey leaping through treetops, scaling the wall by gripping the gaps between the bricks. Peering over the top, he saw that everyone outside had gathered near the main gate, crowding around several burly men who were battering at it with heavy blows. Not a soul paid any attention to this stretch of wall.

He vaulted over, landing soundlessly on the other side, the Ape’s Movement Technique lending him such agility that, even burdened with two bodies, he made no noise upon touching down. San Niang followed, carefully wiping away any trace of footprints left on the wall.

The Black Wind Gang members clustered at the gate had no inkling that someone had already escaped from the side courtyard. Some among them had considered guarding the surrounding walls, but wisely refrained. Inside the courtyard were the gang leader and his top lieutenants; if anyone could manage to escape, these underlings couldn’t hope to stop them and would only end up getting themselves killed for their trouble. Their lives were their own—no sense in being so reckless.

By the time Shang Lu and San Niang had gone far, the main gate was finally battered open. The gang members poured in, only to be greeted by a pool of blood beneath the eaves, and the corpses lying within it. Stunned into silence, they stared for several heartbeats before a shrill scream tore through the rainy night: “The boss is dead—the boss has been killed—!”

A crash of thunder split the sky, as if celebrating Zhao Hai’s demise. News of his death spread rapidly through the compound. Gang members flocked to the side courtyard, eager to see for themselves if their leader truly lay dead. Rumors abounded, each more feverish than the last.

Some claimed Zhao Hai had been slain by Yuan Guilong, for those standing outside had heard the leader’s dying accusation: demanding to know why Yuan Guilong would kill him. Shang Lu hadn’t anticipated Zhao Hai’s final shout, inadvertently providing “witnesses” aplenty.

Others insisted Yuan Guilong couldn’t have done it alone—it must have been with Xu Biao’s help. On his own, even with his three sworn brothers, Yuan could never have bested Zhao Hai. Xu Biao, who had been right at Zhao Hai’s side, must have turned traitor; otherwise, only Yuan Guilong and his brothers would have died. And now, Xu Biao too had vanished, surely having fled with Yuan’s group.

There were also those who whispered Zhao Hai had been claimed by vengeful spirits. Over the years, he had run gambling dens and brothels, trafficked in addictive Dream Ascension Powder, lent money at ruinous rates, and kidnapped innocents into slavery. Countless families had been destroyed by his hand. Now, on this stormy night, their restless souls had returned for vengeance.

The rumors, each plausible in their own way, only deepened the chaos. No one noticed as Shang Lu, still carrying the two corpses, slipped not only out of the compound but beyond the farmstead itself.

Outside, Shang Lu and San Niang repeated their previous trick—quickly digging a deep pit and burying Xu Biao and Huang Bao. Unfortunately, this time, they found only a few scattered coins on the bodies—no secret manuals or cultivation texts.

Once the pit was filled, they made their way back to the compound. Inside, the Black Wind Gang was still in turmoil. Some clamored to pursue the killer and avenge Zhao Hai, but though many voiced agreement, few took any real action. No one was foolish enough to cross whoever had dispatched Zhao Hai—be it Yuan Guilong, Xu Biao, or some otherworldly specter. To demand vengeance from them would be like sending a graveyard ghost to challenge the Earth Mother herself.

With Zhao Hai dead, to whom would they even display their loyalty?

Some suggested dividing the spoils. With the boss and his top lieutenants all missing, the lesser leaders vied for dominance, each wanting to claim the gambling halls or the brothels for themselves.

Others took advantage of the chaos to loot whatever they could from the estate. These Black Wind Gang members were little more than thugs at the best of times; discipline was never their strong suit. While Zhao Hai lived, they’d never have dared covet the valuables, but now—with the boss and top men gone—it was now or never to grab what they could.

Shang Lu had no interest in their petty thieving. His target was Zhao Hai’s hidden treasury.

He had expected it would take considerable effort and time to find. But San Niang simply beckoned to him, leading him to a nondescript, secluded little shack in the southeastern corner of the compound. It looked like a mere storage shed, with no one nearby. San Niang walked straight in, stood atop a spot on the floor, and tapped it with her foot, signaling Shang Lu.

He understood at once. Sure enough, at the spot she indicated, he found a concealed door. Opening it, he descended into Zhao Hai’s secret vault.

The floor was strewn with heaps of gold, silver, and copper coins, as well as several large silver ingots. In all his two lifetimes, Shang Lu had never seen such wealth.

He couldn’t help but marvel inwardly—when it came to finding things hidden underground, San Niang was truly a professional.

Aside from treasure, Shang Lu also found several books in the vault, all related to cultivation. He had no time to examine their contents, so he stuffed them into his robe for later study.

There was far too much wealth to carry by hand. Shang Lu went back out, found a few bedsheets, stacked them together, piled the silver ingots on, added some gold bars and leaves, bundled them up, and, using the Bear’s Strength Technique, hefted the bundle onto his shoulder.

With the Bear’s Strength Technique and his entry-level mastery of the Meridian-Opening Realm, he could carry hundreds of pounds with ease. Even so, it took several trips, and San Niang’s help, to move all the treasure from the vault.

With San Niang watching out for him, Shang Lu, burdened with his massive bundle, managed to avoid the Black Wind Gang members and slip away undetected.

He didn’t take the gold and silver home, but instead buried it in a secluded spot outside the village. Bringing it directly home would be too risky. Far better to hide it outdoors and retrieve it bit by bit over the coming year or two.

Once everything was done, Shang Lu didn’t return to the farmstead, but headed back to Shuanggui Village with San Niang.

When they arrived home safely, Shang Mingqiu and Wu Guizhi finally let out the breath they’d been holding.

Shang Lu shed his raincoat and bamboo hat, his clothes soaked through. Wu Guizhi hurried to fetch a towel, urging him to dry off and avoid catching a chill, and brought him a set of Shang Mingqiu’s clothes to change into for the time being.

After he had dried off and changed, Shang Mingqiu finally asked about the outcome.

“It’s over,” Shang Lu replied with a faint smile, his tone so calm it was as if he had merely weeded a patch of fields, not just slain several Black Wind Gang experts.

“That’s good,” Shang Mingqiu nodded, trying to match his son’s composure, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his shock.

In his heart, he was indeed overwhelmed. Just months ago, this son of his had been lying in a coffin, awaiting burial. Who could have imagined that, in so short a time, the once-untouchable Black Wind Gang of Luoshui County would fall at his hands?

Who knew what other astonishing feats he might accomplish in the future?

Perhaps the ancestral tomb of the Shang family truly was blessed after all.